Tommy Kirkman had been less than pleased to see me. I didn’t have a copy of my birth certificate to show as proof, but I didn’t really need one. I might have looked a little like my mother, but I had more of my father in me. My chocolate brown eyes, the rich cinnamon color of my hair, the angle of my chin and the shape of my nose—that was all Tommy.
“So what do you want?” he had snarled after I told him who I was.
“I…My mom threw me out. I don’t have anywhere to go,” I had told him, putting my pride aside because I had nothing left.
“That’s your problem.” He moved around the bus until he found a half empty bottle of whisky. He pulled the top off and started drinking directly from the bottle. “That settlement I gave your slut mother was to make you go away. I signed over all my rights, and she got her money.”
“But…” I knew I was fighting a lost cause. He wasn’t going to help me. Not unless… “I’ll sell my story to the papers. I’m sure that all your fans would love to read about your bastard in the gossip pages.” Not to mention I was likely to get a good price for selling my story. “And wouldn’t the world like hearing how you got a sixteen year old pregnant?” Maybe it was the truth, or maybe I was just trying to bluff him into helping me out. I wasn’t sure. I could never really know. I was a scared, desperate girl then, but I left with that threat ringing between us.
The next day I met Zeke and he took me in, and I forgot about the threat I had made to Tommy.
So it came as a surprise when two weeks later a stuffy looking lawyer had knocked on Zeke’s door. He worked for Tommy Kirkman and he had something for me. A check for five thousand dollars if I signed the nondisclosure, keeping me from every telling anyone about who Tommy was to me. It wasn’t much, not considering the amount he had given my mother to keep her mouth shut, but I didn’t care. I was done with Tommy. I didn’t need him. I had someone that cared about me now, someone who worried if I was actually eating.
So I took the money and signed the nondisclosure, never thinking I would ever have to explain myself to anyone where Tommy Kirkman was concerned…
“Layla!”
My head jerked up and I wiped at my tear stained face. Jesse was outside pounding on the front door. “Layla, open up and talk to me!” He sounded just as angry as he had back at the party. Some of my numbness started to fade, and before I could think better of it, I was on my feet and across the living room pulling open the door.
Jesse
Father.
Father?
Father!
Lana’s last words kept echoing in my head. Layla was Tom’s daughter. It was a relief. The first thing that had crossed my mind was…
“Fuck!” I scrubbed my hands across my face. “Fuck!” The look on Layla’s face as I had yelled at her came back to haunt me. Now that my rage, my jealousy at thinking that my friend had touched Layla in any way, was evaporating, my gut filled with dread and fear. I had assumed the worst when I should have known immediately that my Layla wasn’t like other women. She hated rockers and would have never have been involved with one.
I was the exception. I knew that I was one lucky bastard that she had given me her heart. I had no excuse for the way I had behaved. Unless you counted the fact that I had never been jealous in my life until tonight. It wasn’t a good feeling, and I hadn’t known how to handle it, so I had taken it out on the woman I loved. And now I might have lost her…
My heart contracted painfully, and I pulled the keys from my jeans pocket as I turned toward where I had parked the Escalade.
Before I had gone more than a few feet, I saw the three men coming towards me. The lights from the house and the lamps outside gave me more than enough light to see that Tom wasn’t happy. The two goons that acted as his personal body guards had their jaws set, and I knew what was coming before my old friend even opened his mouth.
“Nice punch there, Jesse.” Tom rubbed his hand across his already swollen jaw. “That girl must be good on her knees because I have never known you to…” He broke off abruptly when I took a menacing step in his direction.
“You don’t talk about her like that. Ever!” I snarled at the guy I had once considered a good friend. “I’m going to marry ‘that girl’.” If she would still have me. If I hadn’t just screwed up everything.
Tom snorted. “Why would you do that? She’s just after what she can get from you. All that rocker money, just like her mother. As soon as she gets what she wants, you will be history, my friend.”
“You know nothing about her. How could you? You haven’t had anything to do with Layla her whole life, so don’t tell me what you think you know about your daughter, old man.” I watched Tom’s eyes darken when I said the word ‘daughter’.
“She’s no daughter of mine. I don’t care what those blood tests said. She’s not mine.” He turned to go back into the house, but the goons stood in the same place. “It was good knowing you, Jesse.” Tom called over his shoulder, laughing in a sickeningly humorous way that made me grit my teeth.
I didn’t take my eyes off the old rocker as he made his way into the house. If he thought that two over muscled wannabe thugs were going to end me, he had another think coming. I had spent my life fighting, with odds bigger than this against me. I could handle these two without breaking a sweat…
The first punch came from behind, and I fell to my knees. A third goon had come around from behind. I should have known better. Tom liked to fight dirty. Hadn’t I seen just that the few times we had gotten into bar fights all those years ago?
Muttering a curse, I rolled to my side as one of the other goons swung his foot and tried to connect with my ribs. He just barely missed me, and I was thankful for my quick reflexes. When I got to my feet, the last goon was waiting on me, and I ducked to escape his right hook, countering with a punch to his mouth as I side stepped him.
Strong arms caught mine from behind, holding me in place. I struggled, realizing that a fourth goon had come to join our little party. The other three took advantage of having me restrained and started taking turns using me as a punching bag. The air was knocked out of me by the first guy, making me double over to suck in oxygen.
It wasn’t much of a fight that was for sure. Not when I was unable to defend myself against four steroid junkies. A punch from the guy to my right made my head snap back, and I tasted blood as my teeth snapped together and I bit my tongue. Fuck, that hurt!